==== Destructive Magic ====
... the Furies stood in the aftermath of their destructive magic. The landscape for thirty feet in each direction was a wasteland. Small fires burned here and there, and an occaissional tuft of blue hair was seen to waft by.
As they congratulated each other on a job well done, Wisp looked at his comrades in turn, studying their features.
Ares, who had the distinctive number tattooes on each cheek, the left depicting 10 and the right 21. His healing magic had saved Wisp from certain death many times.
Nautica, who boasted a dexterity greater than the most supple of archers, had caused most of the desecration they now viewed.
Fanta, who looked like a female but was almost as masculine in disposition as any of them, made up the last of the quartet.
"No time for pleasantries," hissed Fanta "I see the banners of the Alliance coming over the hill."
As one they turned to look at the oncoming horde.
Nearly three dozen elves and humans were shambling towards them, shouting crude insults and jeering in hooting voices.
One of the Elves carried a long wooden stick with what may of been white panty-hoes dangling from the top, trailing in the wind.
As the wind blew in gusts, the banner was fully revealed, and the Furies saw the hated Alliance symbol, that of a love-heart encircled by blue birds in flight.
"So many!" Cried Nautica.
Wisp grunted in affirmation.
"We must hold here," said Ares. "The strategical implications of losing this altar are many fold. First of all it gives the Alliance a foot hold in our territory, which simply cannot be allowed. Secondly they could raid between as far as Raigo and Gliter at will, and you know how i hate being ambushed..." he was halted in his monologue by Nautica.
"Wait! I have a plan!"
They all crowded around Nautica.
"Ok. First of all, you" motioning to Wisp, "will charge in and distract the Alliance. Ares will keep you covered with heals and Fanta and I will destroy them with storms!"
It sounded like a good plan so Wisp nodded in acquiesence.
"And now," spoke Ares, "Let us prepare for BATTLE!"
They formed a circle looking inward on each other, and clasped hands in the center of it.
Together they shouted, "Teeaam Fail!"
Time seemed to pause as their warcry echoed from horizon to horizon. Even the birds ceased to sing and the four Furies felt invigorated with mystical strength.
Suitably prepared for battle, they set about their plan with efficient warlikeness.
Wisp stingered into the mob of alliance, hearing Ares murmuring magical words in the distance behind him.
A beautiful Human female was his first victim, blonde-haired head flying away in a crimson arc.
The second to fall was a brightly dressed Elf, hands still raised in a death-spell as he fell.
Then the mob reacted and Wisp felt the impact of swords smashing against his front, sides and back, and twig-like arrows peppering his armour.
Now would be a good time for the storms he thought.
Still, the blows rained upon him and he fell to his knees, axes raised in a defensive poise. His strength was failing and even Ares' magic was not enough to renew it.
Wisp couldn't feel much of anything any more, not even noticing the butchery being performed on him by the angry mob of Alliance.
He finally fell forward onto his chest, and dimly saw Nautica picking his nose. Fanta was sat down shouting something about "mana" but Wisp was no longer coherent.
All was darkness.
And then, he opened his eyes to see the most wonderous being he had ever laid eyes upon...
==== To be continued ====
Let's do it again sometime